


Don’t Want This

by jameswlwbarnes



Series: How The Fates Align [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Good End or Bad End, Langst, M/M, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Torture, Trauma, body mutation, klangst, kuro - Freeform, lancelot with implied end game klance, noncon, or at least major pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12673866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameswlwbarnes/pseuds/jameswlwbarnes
Summary: Lance gets taken by the galra and not so fun times ensue





	1. One

They were in the midst of a mission. While the others were doing their own thing (Pidge was cloaked and trying to take out the communications of the Galra ship, Keith was with Shiro in his Galra form while they snuck in unnoticed, and Hunk was searching for Matt Holt. Pidge said she found his ship, that they had to go, and nobody disagreed) Lance ran off towards the main deck of the ship, whispering his current location and where he was going to before lowering the volume on his comms. He needed to concentrate and people screaming in his ear was not pleasant. 

He jogged forward and used his jetpack to give him leverage. He then started jogging along the ledge, careful not to let himself slip. When he stepped from the hallway to the deck he stopped and was sure to make less noise with his steps. As he walked in he saw six Galran soldiers and a ginger haired boy. He stepped back a few feet from the main deck before announcing what he had found and told the others to stay in their stations, he has this under control. He stepped back forward and made sure he was unseen. He propped his gun up and aimed, sticking his tongue out slightly in concentration and shot, retreating back a couple feet once more. 

Lance heard a dull thump and heard the shuffling of the Galrans. None of them said a thing, but he was sure they were on guard now. He waited cautiously for a solid five minutes before notifying his team he was turning off his comms, they were a distraction and a danger, and did so without waiting for a response, he would be scolded but he didn't care right now. This was more important. He peaked back in, seeing they were still on guard, but no longer looking for the shooter. He took a deep breath and aimed once more, being careful not to hit Matt. He aimed for the man's arm. If he hit his arm he'd let go of Matt, Lance could take a clean shot then, but he'd have to be quick. He took the first shot, the distinct pow sounding from his bayard. As soon as it hit he shot another, hitting the man right in the forehead. He stepped back once again, out if sight. "Who's there!" One of the few remaining soldiers demanded in a deep and harsh tone. Lance didn't respond or wait. He was running short on time. Just as the Galran began to shout "We know you're there!" Lance shot him, right through the mouth. Deep purple blood sprayed onto the wall behind where he stood as well as some chunks of his head. He gagged at the sight, making sure to apologise to Matt later for this. 

He aimed again, not bothering to move back this time. He shot down the Galran to Matt's left. Matt jerked his head to the side, the soldier falling to the floor with a hole through his heart. Lance aimed again, missing slightly and hitting Matt's arm. "Shit!" He shouted on reflex, running back as soon as he did. Lance really hated himself right now. He took a deep breath and ran back to the end of the hallway, going across to the ledge on the other side of the hallway. He hid for a moment, recollecting himself, before coming out and shooting another soldier, hitting him in the throat, a disturbing gurgling noise coming from the man. The last soldier placed his hands in the air. "I am with the Blade." He announced, removing his helmet. "You know me. I am Fardan." He announced once more. Lance paused. He did know that name, but he was wary. "I would like to make you an offer." He proposed. Lance looked at how far down a jump this would be before saying fuck it and going for it, keeping his legs bent. 

He landed crouched on the floor. He brought his knee down and aimed for the man. Fardan turned to him, hands still up. You're here for the boy. I can give him to you, but this room has a sensor. It checks to make sure there is human DNA in here every five minutes. It will be happening again in one. Make your decision now." Lance didn't need to think about it much. All he needed to know was that he could be replaced by Allura, she'd even flown his lion once before when Lance was severely injured. "You have a deal." He said, walking to where Matt is. He turned his comms back on for a moment. "I have Matt, I'm going to give him my helmet, Pidge give him directions from the main deck to the castle. I love you guys." And with that he passed his helmet over to Matt with a nod. "Go to your sister. She's waiting for you." Lance instructed and Matt gave a teary eyed nod. "I'm so sorry. Thank you." Lance smiled and gave him a pat on the back. 

He sat down in the center of the dead bodies. "Were the others with the Blade?" Lance asked. "Only one other. Xir name was Dahli." Fardan said. "Xe was a good person, but you did what you had to." Fardan reassured. Lance nodded. "Do all Galrans go by gender neutral terms?" He questioned, trying to distract himself from what was soon to come. To him, even world dominators should have their pronouns respected. "No, just some of them. It isn't too common anymore. Once Zarkon began ruling he exerted male dominance. People no longer cared for being much other than male. You can't be within his rank unless you are born male. The Galran women are too dangerous. Their rebellious and impulsive, kind of like your red paladin. He probably gets that from his mother." Fardan explained. "Did you know his mom?" Lance asked, intrigued in the conversation. "Yes, Safya was a good person. Still is, she's still around. She's one of the higher ups of the Blade. When she fell in love with a captive and sent him back to Earth we were all shocked. She really did care for him and Keith. She was heart broken when she had to leave." Lance gave a small smile, keeping all of this information in the back of his head. 

Hopefully the memory would stay with him if he got the chance to see Keith again- he wanted to tell him about her. "Tell me more about her, please?" Lance politely asked Fardan and he gave him a sympathetic look. "I have a feeling Lotor is going to like you." He stated. The tone in his voice made Lance concerned. "Anyways," he started as if nothing happened. "Safya's a good person, you'll probably meet her. Your team may get to as well. She's headstrong, confident, beautiful, and a bit on the impulsive side, but she means well. Even if she is... unkind at times." Lance chuckled at Fardan's hesitation. "Sounds like her son." He joked. 

Heavy foot steps came towards the door, multiple forms it seemed by the out of time stepping. Lance took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." Fardan said before slamming him to the wall and putting a gun to his head as the door opened. Both he and Fardan looked to the door. The faces he saw gave him a range of emotions. 

First he saw Zarkon. It struck fear in his heart he knew he'd never get from any other person. Then Haggar. At this he felt rage and disgust, she was strong, but beatable. She relied entirely on the power source of innocent people's lives to become strong. It disgusted Lance to no end. The next face he saw gave him mixed emotions. Prince Lotor. His first reaction was fuck. Lotor was nothing short of beautiful. His face was structured and his gold irises acted as lightning to the storm in his eyes. His next emotion was disgust- at himself specifically because what the fuck? This is Zarkon and Haggar's son. The thought of them going at it made him gag a little. How did two vile people make such a pretty baby? 

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just staring at one another. Fardan released his hold on Lance. "Blue Paladin," Lotor began. "Am I correct?" He questioned, taking his hand once he stepped in range. "Yes, and you're Prince Lotor." He started with a petty smile "Now if you would please get off of me, your highness." He said, sarcasm dripping through the crevasses of the letters in each word spoken. Lotor gave him a smile and let go of his hand. "I like this one, father." He stated with a wink and then walked out as if he had never come in. 

Zarkon stepped forward next, Haggar hot on his heels. "That behaviour will not be tolerated with me, understood. I expect respect to each and every Galran here. Treat us all as your higher-ups; that's what we are now. Lock the door behind you, Haggar." Zarkon instructed. He was extremely blunt and straight forward. He had a sense of dominance to him. Zarkon didn't need to hurt you to get his way, all he has to do is ask. He has an aura of power that Lance couldn't help but obey, and he had a feeling that had something to do with the witch by his side. "You're a smart one." Haggar praised, sounding impressed. "Don't make me waste such a brain on petty rebellion." She advised before following in Zarkon's path. As soon as they were all out, Lance let out a sigh. "I'm fucked."


	2. Two

The next morning Lance woke up to see Lotor staring at him. At first, his sleep dazed mind barely comprehended it, but once he got his sense back he jumped and pushed himself against the wall. He wanted as much distance between him and Lotor. His chest heaved slightly as he kept himself as flat against the wall as possible, almost as if he can meld with the wall and disappear. Lotor offered him a smile and reached his hand out to Lance. "Come. No harm will come your way, beautiful." He proposed, a soft look on his face. Lance gave his hand a weird look, but obliged nonetheless. He wasn't stupid, he knew his limits and he knew they'd have him manipulated by the end of the day if he didn't comply. 

He reached his hand out warily and Lotor pulled him up carefully. The strolled down the corridor, Lotor's hand still in Lance's, probably to make sure he doesn't bolt it. "My father said he wanted your mind broken through torture but I'm not going to allow that." Lotor stated casually. Lance's hand tightened around Lotor's defensively, remembering just now how bad the situation he's in will be. "You have a beautiful mind, I don't want it broken in that way." He casually stated, still just strolling through corridors, making weird turns. Lance didn't question it, but he knew to be careful. As they walked by, a guard raised a gun to Lance, but Lotor dismissed him with a raised hand. Finally, Lance spoke up. "Where are you taking me?" He asked timidly, unable to help the sense of fear he felt. He doesn't know how to fight without his gun. He never needed to, really. He had his family- both his biological and the paladins. They both always had his back. Especially Keith, no matter how much they bickered. 

Keith was always at his six, looking everywhere Lance couldn't see. He often even fought where Lance could, always blaming it on Lance "not being fast enough." He always thought that was all there was until one day Lance was let out of a pod the third time that week and he and Keith had a moment on the control deck, where they could watch the stars. "I'm sorry" Keith had said, "This is all my fault. I couldn't protect you." Lance never knew Keith had taken on that responsibility until that night. Immediately after saying that, Keith had stood and walked out, not looking Lance in the eyes until their next mission two days later. 

"You care immensely for him." Lotor stated, no question in his words. "It's nearly pathetic, honestly." He said with a bitter smile on his face. "I care for all of my team. They're my family." Lance argued. "I think you forget I'm Altean as well. I know your thoughts, as disturbing as some of them are. I really didn't need some of those things in my head, I have no interest in your human mating desires-" Lance cut him off with a incredulous sound. Lotor laughed casually. "I'm kidding, calm down. I can see your thoughts, though. The love you hold for the Red Palad-" "Keith." Lance interrupted. Lotor raised an eyebrow at him. "The love you hold for Keith," He emphasised, "Is different from that of the others. There's a romantic interest. More than you hold for all the other people you meet. You're quick to fall in love aren't you?" Lotor smirked at Lance as if he knew how beautiful Lance saw him as. He probably did, honestly. "I do. Don't worry, the feeling is mutual. Anyways," He swiftly changed the topic, seeming almost uncomfortable. "My father wants to see you." He said, stopping in the middle of the corridor. "Can I trust you to go the rest of the way?" Lance gave him a suspicious look. This was a test, it had to be. 

"And that," Lotor said, placing a finger on his head lightly. "Is exactly why I don't want your mind broken. You have common sense. Your analytical and trusting. Loving by nature, but dangerous by force. I value that in you." Lotor praised, Lance's face flushing slightly against his will. "Now go." Lotor stated, literally vanishing. Altean magic was weird, Lance decided on first. Then, he realised he has no idea where Zarkon is. He sighed, wishing he had Pidge on his side, or maybe Shiro. He was good at finding his way. That made Lance think. He can have them assist him. They have a bond. It would be hard, and quite draining, but Lance refused. He needed to learn to do things on his own. He began wandering aimlessly, thinking all the while.

Lance began tapping his hand on the wall to the beat of the soldiers steps. He began picking up patterns in the sounds of his taps. Some were hollow while others weren't. Zarkon would be in the biggest area of the ship. If he can listen for a deep, empty sound in his tapping, he can find it. He began tapping to his own rhythm, no longer looking ahead of him, but rather at the wall, shuffling sideways. One tap made him pause. He tapped again, the sound echoing through the hall, hollow and deep, deeper than the others. He stepped to the door and opened it, finding a large room that screamed royalty and he knew he hit the nail on the head. He stepped in, waiting at the doorway. A large throne in the middle turned to face him. Zarkon. He was somewhere between proud and terrified. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. "You requested my presence?" Lance stated. Zarkon didn't say anything, but Lance felt his consciousness draining. Haggar. He didn't bother fighting it, saving his energy for whatever was to come.


	3. Three

Lance was terrified at what he'd seen. He wanted to run, hide, curl up in a ball, and cry. "Why are we in Cuba." He demanded, none of the fear he held seeping through his words. Only anger. Anger and malice. "This is where your family is, correct? Just in the small pink house right there?" Haggar teased. Lance's hands balled up into fists. "That would be correct." He spoke through clenched teeth. He had to hold back. It wasn't natural for him, out of character, foreign, but he had to if he knew what was good for him. For his family. For both of his families. Haggar waved a hand forward as if to tell him to go into his home. "What is this, some shitty Hallmark Christmas movie?" Lance mumbled to himself, walking towards the front steps of his home. He opened the door and stepped inside. "Mamá?" He called, footsteps running from upstairs. "José, what did I say about-" She stopped on the steps, frozen. "Lance?" She whispered, as if the name was too dear to her to want anyone else to hear, like she was keeping it to herself. "Mamá, you know how when I was little, you would read me fairytales-" He stopped, a lump in his throat making him choke a little on tears. "And- and you tried to teach me to stay safe. To keep watch for evil people? You told me fairytale are just a harsher reality-" Lance was cut off by a hug. "Hidden behind a pretty face. Mijo, it's been so long." 

Lance smiled, pulling away from the hug. His mother looked broken by the action. "I don't know if this is real. If you can see me or feel me back on Earth, but I want you to know I love you. I can't stay here for long. Don't blame the Garrison, it was all our fault. Tell Mrs. Holt her children are okay, her husband passed. Tell Hunk's parents he's okay and making wonderful space food in the castleship. Find Takashi Shirogane's parents and tell them he and Keith are okay. They're both safe and fighting everyday for the sake of the entire universe. We all are. I love you, mamá. I'm sorry." His words were obstructed by tears and sobs, but his mom nodded nonetheless. "I don't want you to leave. I want to know what you're talking about, what they've done to you. I love you, mijo, we all do. I'll look up to the stars and pray every night that you come back. I pro-" 

Her words cut off and Lance was now alone. He stood in a dark, unlit room. When the lights turned on he wished they'd turn back off. It's just a dream. This isn't real. He tried to remind himself, repeating it like a mantra. The words did nothing to hold back the bile rising in his throat. "Stop." He called out, only to hear his voice echo back into his own ears. The voice slowly became that of the person who was in front of him, starting at a whisper for only his and his torturers ears and raising to a scream. It sounded painful, but he couldn't blame him. He suddenly understood exactly why Shiro's brain suppressed all of Shiro's memories of the Galra ship, only giving him small pieces when absolutely necessary. He had become ruthless. Powerful, even more so than Lance had ever thought Shiro can be, stronger than Lance knew possible in a human. He wasn't really human here, though. He was something else. His eyes held a golden crazed tint to them as if he was transforming into a Galran. His hair was different, wild and untamed. His clothes were ripped and bloodstained. Before he would have thought of it as Shiro's, but he now knew the blood on his clothes were everyone but's. Shiro was fucking insane.

There he stood, shoulders as broad as he knew them to be now, clawing into an alien's stomach, reaching in and ripping back out. It seemed to be doing nothing, it kept on regenerating before he could die. He paused his actions for just a moment and turned his eyes from the creatures stomach to his face. "What do you know about Voltron?" He growled, practically inhuman. The tone made a shiver run down his spine and cold fear gripped his heart. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, tuning out their voices, even as it rose in volume, encasing him. This is just a vision. This isn't real. He repeated, taking another deep breath. His breathing was ragged, uneven, and sporadic. He wanted to get a grasp on himself, needed to, but every time he tried it was like he was the one of the table having his guts ripped out. He couldn't breathe, couldn't leave, couldn't escape. He needed to fight it, he needed to get out, he needed to go home. 

The screams of the alien haunted his ears, echoing with Shiro's growls and feral sounds. Those sounds started to drown out, only his heart beat being heard to his ears. Can't breathe, can't leave, can't escape his mind seemed to be shouting as he fought himself, trying to leave. He felt himself slipping from an unknown hold on him, everything felt as if it was about to burst, nothing was stable where ever he was, nothing was the same. Nothing was going to be the same if he got back to his family. He wasn't going to be him, he wasn't going to go back, this is what he'd become. His brain was being taken over by intrusive thoughts, the uneasy feeling of a cracking sense of reality growing. The feeling returned and grew stronger, the slipping, the loss of a grip, he needed to get a grip.

When he opened his eyes he was back in Zarkon's room of sorts. It was kind of more like a chamber with all of the devices laying around that looked as if they caused immense pain. "Put him back in." Zarkon demanded. "But sire," Haggar began to argue. "It wasn't a request. Do as I say, Haggar." He boomed, turning to face her. "Yes, sire." She complied and Lance was thrown back in. He was face to face with Keith. They were in the castle ship. He felt the bond rumbling, but he fought it. "Lance?" Keith questioned, his voice sounding muddled. He wanted to reach out and grab him. He wanted to hold him and never let go, just the thought brought a flutter to his chest, but he knew he couldn't. Lance kept on fighting it as Keith called out to him. He felt his nerves raising and determination growing. He needed to leave, needed to get out of here before Keith could properly see him. He fought and fought, refusing to respond to Keith's calls. Eventually others from the team came running in and did just as Keith did, but he refused to respond. He needed to concentrate, but the voices shouting at him were making this difficult. "Stop!" Lance finally shouted, breaking free of Haggar's hold.

Lance's breathing was heavy and the rush of adrenaline replaced his lack of energy from the feat he just pulled. "Keep him contained." Zarkon began. "Make sure he stays under watch by either you, Lotor, or myself. We'll watch in schedules. Bring him to the drain." Zarkon listed. "Do you give fancy intimidating names for everything in this castle and if so, can I have one?" Lance questioned from where he stood, ignoring the Galrans pulling his arms back into their hold and dragging him out of the room.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a lot of time jumps due to rape/noncon in this chapter, no details are there if you want to skip here are the important parts:  
> Lance admits to loving Keith  
> Lance also agrees when Lotor asks if he loves him (he doesn’t speak it, just nods)

Lance knew things were gonna be bad when they didn't take him out of the room. No, the guards dragged him further into the room and his eyes drifted back to the devices he had said looked painful before. Damn it. At least he knew what was coming.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lance had no clue what was happening when they pulled him through a door of the room and dragged him into a pool. He was a bit too out of it to care, honestly, revelling in the feeling of the water around him, re-energising him. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The locked Lance in the room with the pool. He has never been more confused in his life. 

It's been hours.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scratch that. It's been a day. Lotor is now in his room, he claimed it as his now, and Lance is confused.

"So what is the point of this, exactly?" Lance questioned. "Are they trying to turn me into a raisin or something? Do Galrans have raisins?" 

Lotor smiled and give him a kiss on the back of his hand before leaving Lance ten times more confused than before.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lance was pretty sure he understood what the point of the room was after Lotor had come and visited him four more times. One, to keep him alive. Lance didn't know what the fuck the liquid in the pool was but every time he dipped even a finger in the water he was no longer hungry, nor thirsty or tired. Two, sex. He hadn't done it in the room, but he was pretty sure there was something up with the room because every time Lotor stepped into the room he'd give Lance a small sign of affection and Lance was extremely sensitive to it. He also felt the urge to literally pounce on him every time he came in, but Lance knew better. While his physical side wanted it, his mental side definitely did not. Lotor was attractive, but the idea of having sex with him made him want to cry and curl up in a ball. Probably because he knew it was going to happen soon whether he wanted it or not.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Today, Lance had a feeling, was the day he had been dreading. It had been two weeks and Lotor was extremely affectionate, telling Lance he loved him, he's beautiful, and praising him. Lance had started being let out of the room to train with Haggar, something about him having potential in his blood. He trained nearly all day and when he wasn't training he was sitting with Lotor and thinking about Keith. He'd quickly discovered that Lotor was 100% correct- Lance has a major crush on Keith. Lotor hates it, therefore hates Keith. He says he's the only thing keeping him from receiving his love. Lance couldn't deny that, He'd been starting to fall for Lotor. 

That day things had gone wrong. First, when Lotor was leaving his room with his usual "I love you" Lance responded saying "I love you, too." It was automatic and came easily to him. In retrospect, it shouldn't be a big deal. To Lotor, though, it was. "You love me?" He questioned, striding back to where Lance sat. "Well yeah, I'm not in love with you, but I do love you." Lance replied simply, not thinking much of it. Lotor thought a bit more, however. He growled, feral and deep, pining Lance to the wall behind him, Lance still sitting with Lotor now straddling him. He held him in that position and he knew Lotor was pulling some of that weird Altean magic shit. 

Lotor's face when cold. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" He questioned harshly. "I don't know, I've never thought of it that way, but even if I was it's because I've been around him longer. I knew him for years and I still don't know." Lance mumbled back, quiet and just barely audible. "But you do love me?" Lotor asked, a desperate tone behind the demanding forefront. Lance nodded. "Then show me." Lotor commanded, placing his lips onto Lance's forcefully. Lance shrunk into the wall as far as he could, fighting the feelings that damned liquid emanated into his system. When he finally found the strength to shove Lotor off he gave a huffed "Stop." Lotor growled and went in for another kiss, just as aggressive, but Lance kept his hold on him steady. "Stop." Lance stated, verging on a plea. Lotor smirked at the scared undertones of his speech.

Lotor proceeded down his neck, leaving marks and bites all along the way. Lance whimpered, more in fear than pleasure, and tried to gather as much strength as he can. He needed to do something, run, fight, buy some time, anything, but he couldn't gather enough energy to push Lotor off of him. Lotor was much larger than Lance, his frame dominated his easily. Lance felt entirely and completely submissive, a cry leaving his lips when Lotor's mouth wrapped around one of his pert nipples, nibbling at it. He hid his face in his hand, ashamed of the noises he made despite his better judgement. 

The stimulation to the sensitive buds on his chest was too much to not make noise, but Lance fought it with all his might. He couldn't give in, he needed to get out. His mind screamed to run, but his body was pliant and he couldn't seem to get a grasp of his physical state. All he could do was take the disgusting pleasure and hope this would be over soon.

Lotor did not make this drag out, he knew what he wanted so he was going to get it. He swiftly ripped open Lance's black body suit and pulled the purple crop top from over his head. Lance closed his eyes and counted to ten.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

No amount of counting could prepare Lance for what had happened. First off, Galrans were fucking huge. All over. Everything about them was just large. Secondly, the feeling in his chest afterwards. The deeply settled sense of loneliness and emptiness from the deepest point of his heart emanated throughout the room and he almost wanted Lotor back in here. He didn't want to be alone, anything was better than this. Well, that was untrue. He had just been thrown around like a ragdoll, that was pretty unpleasant. He shivered at the thought. He told himself it was okay. He volunteered himself for this, this is what he would do. Besides, Lotor loved him. He loves Lotor. They're okay. They've been okay for the month or so Lance has been here. He wasn't actually sure, time was a blur here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let’s see how voltron’s doin real quick (or was, this is in the past, post losing lance, pre gaining matt, somewhere in between)

The helmet didn't really fit Matt. It was slightly too big and kept on sliding forward into his eyes. He also couldn't really understand what was happening. "I'll send the coordinates to the helmet," Katie had said. "It will tell you where to go," she said. The helmet isn't much help in telling him where to go if he couldn't hear the directions because they were screaming about a boy named Lance and yelling at something called a Pidge? Matt wasn't really sure. All he knew was he heard Katie and Shiro's voices in the mess of shouting and he knew he had to get the where they were.

He strained his ears to try and hear the directions but it was hard when he couldn't see. Damn Galrans never fixing his eyes. 

"Go-" the rest was cut off by screaming from the other end of the comms and Matt let a sound not unlike a growl come up from his throat. He stopped and took a breath. "Go left." It repeated and Matt knew this was going to take far too long when he looked back and saw he was mere feet from the room he had just been in. "Katie," Matt called simply, all of the talking halting. "Finally, fuck's sa-" "Language." Shiro cut him off and Matt's fists balled up and he took a deep breath. "Fuck you, Takashit." Matt teased hearing two laughs in return, one of them familiar but not belonging to Shiro like the other one had, before going back to the topic at hand. "I can't hear the directions, can you turn up the volume?" There was a sniffle and an "On it" before he heard the words "Turn left" again, but louder. Significantly so. "Thanks, Pigeon." Matt called before turning left as the directions had told him to do at least five hundred times by now. 

No more words were spoken, but people were crying. He knew that much. There weren't any voices coming through the communicator aside from the monotonous female or male or genderless voice in the saying "Go left" or "Turn right." One of the people crying he familiarised as Katie. Matt felt bad for whatever it was that happened. He knew this was partially his fault no matter how much she may deny it. He knew well enough that the tears he heard weren't entirely for him. There was something else behind it. As if someone had gone to an ice cream parlour and got a double scoop with one scoop of Sweet Relief! with an another of Melancholy Madness! A terrible combination, really. They don't go very well together.

By the time Matt was done with his weird analogy he was at the large doors of a castle. Or maybe it was a ship with the architectural design of a castle meant to simulate a homey feeling to fool those on the ship into a false sense of comfort when they're out in the cold abyss of space. Either way, its look remained the same. A concrete form in an abstract universe. White base, greying with age like that of an old man's beard as he approaches his death. Blue detailing starting at the ground and making its way up into a fixated point of the ship. The blue areas seemed to glow slightly, making the whole thing look even more massive than it already was. Making Matt feel even more small than he already felt. He never felt any bigger than an ant once he started travelling into the dark void of axions and carbon and hydrogen and all that good stuff. He began to find comfort in it, or maybe he was just numb to the fear. The results were the same either way; just like how the castle looked the same with intentions of creating an effervescent home or just to make it look nice. 

The results are also the same, Matt realised, if the tears Katie cried were for him or because of him. Either way, she was still crying. Either way, Matt was going to run up to her and squeeze her and tell her he loves her, that she's the best sister in the entire universe, the very universe they float within now. Either way he was going to have Katie back, and either way a sacrifice will have been made, and either way Matt will have had no control over the situation. His life was within the hands of fate at this point, no longer property of himself but whatever higher power determining what happens in his life. He liked to think of it as God. He, however, knew it as fear. Fear and war controlled his life in all aspects now that he was off the safe environment of Earth.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lmao lance stfu

Lance sat in his room, knees bent up to his chest and back to the wall. He stared forward, not making a sound nor doing a thing. He chose to get lost in the sound of the overwhelming nothingness. Nobody was screaming, nobody was training, it was just quiet and serene. Lance had never heard a Galran ship completely quiet. His past self, if his past self would have ever dwelled on the though- which it hadn't, would have thought a quiet Galra ship was eerie. Suspicious even, like something was going to happen. He'd have become paranoid, but not now, now he bathes in the silence embracing the lovely sound of nothingness playing it's empty tune around the base. 

He basked in the silence until someone walked in, but Lance hadn't opened his eyes, not even aware he had closed them in the first place. A form sat next to him and he could tell it was Lotor. The smell was of something indescribable, nothing on Earth he can think of, but on Altea he would recognise the smell as juniberries. It was faint and pleasant, soft enough that you can just barely tell it's there until Lotor is just inches away from you. He had not been on Altea, though, so the scent remained unknown to him. 

He thought Lotor would have said something or brought him somewhere, but he just sat and laid his head on Lance's shoulder. Lance lowered his head onto Lotor's and rested in that position. Something deep down was screaming at him to stop, this isn't right, but he quieted it down for now. This moment was for relaxing, not another battle of the internal war over Lotor's position in his life. Somewhere deep down, Lance knew he only did this because he desired another who loved him. His standards weren't high, and yet, nobody ever fit that one, small standard. A tear fell down his now darker skin due to the shadows in the never lit room. Lotor moved his head and lifted his hand to wipe his tear away. Lance opened his eyes and Lotor's face dropped a look of concern and took on a comforting smile. He couldn't think of any other way to interpret it besides the quote from Gatsy,   
He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor.

Sometimes Lance questioned how he was the child of Zarkon. He wasn't like him at all. He was almost like one of those passive aggressive anti-heroes you see in comic books who are usually chaotic neutral. He wasn't always like that, though. He had two sides, a good one, this one, and a bad one. If they were on Earth Lance was almost sure he'd have been diagnosed with DID. He had the psychological trauma to back it up, he's seen how Zarkon and Haggar treat him. He didn't want to do this, he cared so little for taking over the galaxy. He was Zarkon's successor though. His fate was sealed, stuck within the grip of the titles Ruler or Dead. If he was not one he was the other, never to be simultaneously both. His fate weighed on his shoulders, heavy and dragging him down. His father was trying to break him, make him desire the same he does, but Lance hoped with all his heart Zarkon didn't win. Lotor was good, he truly was, but he was halfway to what his father wanted and the other half was suffering. That was the half Lance had come to love.


	7. Seven

Lance woke up to being grabbed and violently smashed into a wall, therefore passing out again immediately. A great start to his day, really. When he woke up his head throbbed and he didn't want to open his eyes, but it wasn't because of his head. He heard screams, cheering. A voice was speaking, seemingly everywhere and, because someone cannot be everywhere and Lance's eyes were closed, no where. He couldn't place the voice in one area, it was almost omniscient, immortal. He had this terrible moment of realisation, this is the arena Shiro mentioned, and had an even worse thought, maybe I should just let myself die, and a terrible memory, his mother crying, begging for him to stay, and a final decision, I will make this fair with (hopefully) no bias towards death. 

Thus, he opened his eyes and slowly stood up, groggy with pain and slumber coating every last molecule of his body. Lotor was at his side immediately, helping keep him stable. "I'm so sorry." He whispered quietly, as most do when they whisper unless they are a bad whisperer, but Lotor wasn't. He spoke in a quiet and soothing voice, almost relaxing Lance until his words struck at full force.

Lance had no time to over think before Lotor started speaking and Lance could do nothing but watch. All he caught was "warm welcome" and "Blue Paladin." He didn't think making him fight for him life against a robeast was a very warm welcome, but to each their own.

He took a deep breath, ignoring all else Lotor said before he was shoved into the ring at gun point. Lance didn't see why it was necessary, at this point if the Galra told him to walk into the torture chambers, did they even have those, he wondered, he'd do it without question, simply too tired to object. He hadn't slept decently since he got here, he's been tortured, raped, manipulated, and now this. It was too much in a short span of time, it was all hitting him too hard. He wasn't going to come out of this the same as he came in. 

He stepped onto the stage, shrugging the Galra men off of him and walking up the stage with all guns pointed at him as if he was about to make a great escape. Didn't they realise he had just had his head smashed into a wall? He didn't want to do anything right now. He was sure this would most likely be his first and last match. He stumbled to where he decided he wanted to stand and sat down on the floor. His head was pounding, he felt like it was going to crack his skull open and burst out before the match even started. Not to mention, Lance can't fight with a sword. Or rather, he can, he's trained with Keith before with a sword and did pretty decently. He remembers his basic parries, offence and defence. 

But now that he thought about it, he doesn't have a sword. Not a gun, nor any weapon at all lay in sight. He was truly fucked. 

He heard them announcing the other person fighting, someone named "Faeorella." His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced up in confusion. His stomach dropped when he did, bile rising in his throat. He was fighting another alien. He was fighting a Xerlan from the planet they had failed to save a while ago. He remembered this girl. "Lance?" She questioned, walking over on her naturally ballet-pointed feet. He nodded. They looked at each other grimly, they had made friends when they were trying to negotiate before the attack. When they became allies they became better friends. They weren't super close, more friends of consequence, but that didn't matter. Fae, as he had been introduced to her, didn't seem to have a weapon either. Just her four-fingered hands. 

Lance stood and shook her hand. "We'll fight like we don't know each other. Throw all previous encounters out the window." Lance instructed and Fae gave a hesitant nod before acquiring a fighting stance, Lance doing the same thing. He heard a ding and assumed it meant start. 

They circled one another, like predator and prey, mood between them changing instantly. For Lance it was like when they were fighting against the blade of marmora in regular Galra battles. There were many members who were quite high up in Galra ranks. When they encountered them on missions they were to be treated as an enemy. 

Fae threw an experimental punch, Lance deflecting. Lance did the same to her, Fae responding the same. Lance waited a moment, thinking about her reaction time, somewhat slower than his own, and strength, also slightly lower than his own. The overall stamina of the species, the same as a human's, and the speed, slower because of their feet, but it added stealth. He took a deep breath and the real fight began now. 

Lance threw a punch towards her face, Fae blocking and going for his chest, Lance using his forearm to swipe her fist away. He faked with one hand, going for her abdomen and used his better hand to hit her throat. She fell for it, wheezing a little more with her breaths. Lance used this to his unfortunate advantage and punched her, hitting her eye. He waited a little, letting her recuperate, but he heard the objection from Lotor. Keep fighting. Don't stop. Lance sighed and hit towards her stomach, but she grabbed his wrist and turned his taking his bent arm and pushing it up from the elbow with her hand on his shoulder. Pain wrung throughout his arm while he kicked his leg back, hooking his foot around her knee and pulling forward slightly. Her knee gave out and he took his arm back from her grip and grabbed her foot as she kicked towards his side and yanked on it, her body slamming into the floor. Lance had pinned her immediately afterwards. 

His breathing was heavy and he was almost happy for a moment before hearing the cheers of Kill her! Kill her! wring throughout the room. It echoed off each wall, surrounding him from all sides. He couldn't escape it. He stood and walked away towards Lotor who look confused, almost offended at his actions. "Do I have to?" Lance waited for his answer, getting a simple nod in response "It's customary." Lotor responded, hints of remorse in his tone. "I can't." He stated simply, leaving little room for argument. Lotor went to speak, but Lance cut him off. "I know her. We made an alliance, a promise to keep them safe from your people's hands. I cannot, and will not, kill her." Lance stated, no argument given back to him. 

Lotor walked over, taking a gun from a Galran soldiers hand. "What are you doing…?" Lance asked, Lotor ignoring, walking closer to the girl. "What are you doing?" Lance asked again louder and with more urgency, making the girl look up at the tone of his voice. "Lotor, stop, this isn't what I meant!" Lance shouted over the cheers in the arena. "Lotor-" He stopped gun on the back of his head from an unknown Galra soldier. "Silence." Lotor gave him a look of pity and walked to the girl. He whispered something in her ear that made her look up at Lance with sympathetic eyes before they went dead and a bang rung throughout the arena. Everything froze for a moment and Lance felt a tears run down his face as he looked back at dead eyes. His head was pounding, his arm was seering with pain, and it was all too much.

Lotor basically ran out of the arena, Lance hot on his heels in seconds. Lotor walked into Lance's room, leaving the door open for Lance to come in. He shut the door behind him gently and walked over to Lotor much slower than he had been walking before. "Lotor-" Lance was cut off by a quick "I'm sorry." It took him by surprise. "I didn't want to," Lotor continued. "I just," He paused for a moment, looking for the right words. "I don't know what to do. My dad is basically useless after Voltron's attack. I can stop all of this right now if I wanted, stop the attacks, bring all of the troops back, kill the commanders. I could. I just… not all of me wants that." He admitted. Lance sat in front of Lotor, who was also sat on the floor. "I know. I'm sorry." Lance practically whispered, moving next to him and laying his head on Lotor's shoulder.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Lance's head still pounding, he was probably concussed, and his bad arm away from Lotor, his good arm cuddled into him as well as that whole side of his body. "I love you." Lance whispered in the silence. He used his other hand to gesture to Lotor as a whole, his shoulder making him regret the action. "This you. The one who loves me too. I'm sorry I can't love all of you." Lotor smiled bitterly at Lance. "But you also love the other boy, do you not?" Lance raised his head and looked over in confusion. "What?" Lotor chuckled in the same tone he did speaking. "The red one. His name is Keith, right?" Lotor questioned, looking Lance in the eye. Lance broke eyes contact, "Yes, his name is Keith." The rest was unspoken, but understood by both. Not a word was spoken afterwards.


	8. Eight

Lance wasn’t good with technology. This was not, and never has been, his strong suit. He knew enough to be able to work his way around Earth technology, but Galra technology was a completely different story. He’d have to give Pidge props for it later. Now he couldn’t though. For one, he wasn’t with Pidge and wouldn’t be for, if this worked, about another day. Second, he was a bit preoccupied hacking into the Galra main base tech to find the coordinates and send them out to the Castle ship in a frequency level the nearby Galra ships wouldn’t be able to read. Also, he was on a time limit. A bell would ring throughout the ship when he was due to be in Haggar’s presence. He still had to be punished for not killing Fae. Zarkon said it was unacceptable, and of course Haggar agreed.

That wasn’t important now, though. What was important is him getting out of here. It’s bad enough he had free roam of the ship, he was allowed to go anywhere he wanted now, fully capable of escaping if it weren’t for the damn guards. On thought of the guards he soared a look to his left where four of them are piled. He’d regret that later, but he had to do it. He has to leave.

He finally found the coordinates and a request to send it out but he favored for clicking on some more unintelligible Galra writing and looked for something that looked familiar. After minutes of searching he found something all the way at the bottom of the list in Altean. 

Before he could do anything else the bell rang. He didn’t hesitate before selecting whatever it was he just saw and sending it out. Lance made a bolt to Haggar’s room. It wasn’t far from there, he probably could’ve made it before the second bell rang to signify his time to get there was up, and yet, the bell rang just as he was outside of her room. His body wanted to freeze up but he didn’t let it. He stepped into the room and was immediately met with silence. 

He stood in the silence for what felt like about two minutes before he was grabbed from behind and pulled onto a bed. He was restrained as Haggar came close and hissed out a quick “you’re late” before yelling to the soldiers, Lance assumed they were Druids, and he was quickly lifted from where he laid and had his arm held up by chains and his legs cuffed to the floor. He was free for experimentation on all sides now. He took a couple of deep breaths, panic rising in his throat. His chin was grabbed by cold fingers and his head was turned to face Haggar. “You look up to the Champion correct?” Lance’s jaw clenched and his body tensed. “He’s not the fucking champion anymore.” Haggar just kept looking him in the eyes, or maybe through, it looked like her concentration was not on him but whatever was behind him. “Yes, I look up to my leader.” Lance practically spat out. Something hit hard against his back, thin and solid. “Ex-leader.” Lotor spoke from behind him. Lotor put his hand around his throat and pulled him closer to him, Lance stretching his neck and arching his back in the opposite direction, trying to get away. “You’re mine now.” He spoke through grit teeth, keeping the hold on Lance’s neck for too long. His chest started burning and his back started cramping. Just when he felt like he was going to pass out, body beginning to fall from its defying pose, Lotor released his hold.

 

Lance took a multiple large breaths of stale air. Something had definitely died in here, and Lance had a sparing thought that maybe he’d die in here too. He wouldn’t mind that much. “How much more can you possibly do, his mind is already ours, what else need be done?” Lotor questioned, walking around Lance. “What do you mean my mind is yours?” Lance stated more than questioned. He saw Lotor raise an eyebrow in his peripheral vision. “He seriously doesn’t know?” Lotor asked again. “Does it matter?” Haggar asked malice in her voice. “I guess you’re right. Pity.” Lotor responded simply, Lance’s question gone forgotten. 

“What did you do to me?” He asked again, panic apparent in his tone of voice. Haggar let out a laugh that sounded like a terrible mixture between a cackle and a snort. Lance would’ve laughed had it not been for the situation they were currently in. Lotor walked up to him, getting too close for his liking. “Lotor, silence him. We need him still for the procedure.” Lotor obliged to Haggar’s word.

His breathing began to shallow as his mind started overworking, questioning, only getting worse when an extreme pain erupted in the muscle between his neck and shoulder. His body went numb and he fell limp in the shackles keeping him upright. His eyes fell closed, rendering him blind. All he could do is hear and feel. Slowly even those senses left his body and he was left with cold, bitter sleep.


	9. Nine

Lance awoke to all of his senses being overwhelmed at once. First, a weird, out of body pain that erupted in his shoulder blade where the knife was now no longer lodged. Second, a blaring alarm. Multiple. And many, many urgent voices overlapping one another. Third, the world spinning when his wrists were released from their hold in the shackles. The fourth was all at the fault of his brain. His mind almost immediately began overworking. 

It started with a wave of confusion. What are they panicking about? Then the what became a who. Before he could regain enough consciousness to predict his own answer, Voltron, he subconsciously rubbed at his wrists, or rather, wrist. Only one hurt from being restrained. Now that he thought about it, there was a general numbness in that whole arm that he assumed was the fault of cut off circulation. It didn’t quite seem right to him though. Wouldn’t both arms feel this way? And why, when he really focused his mind enough, was the pins and needles feeling only below the elbow? He grabbed his arm and felt nothing. Or rather, something.

With the opposite hand, the one he had feeling in, he immediately felt a stiffness to his arm that hadn’t been there before. Almost like he had slept on it wrong, but much more intense. With one hand he was able to feel that there was an arm there, which was a good sign, but that was negated by the lack of feeling in said arm. He didn’t feel his own grasp. 

He looked up to see Lotor, who had most likely taken him out of the shackles, sorting through the multitude of objects on the medical table just in front of him. He stood and walked over. “What’s going on?” Lance practically whispered over Lotor’s shoulder. His voice did not feel like his own, nor did his body. This feeling, while it had been with him for a while, felt much more powerful now than it ever had. “Run.” Lotor stated simply, voice strained. “Go to your team.” 

Lance didn’t need to hear anything else, confused and disoriented he ran faster than he ever had out of the room and towards the chaos. 

He dodged the hands of soldiers and the bullets of their guns, turning corners and running down corridors purely based off of memory and gut feeling. That was all he had right now. 

After what felt like an eternity of running he saw familiar red, black, and yellow suits. 

His feet carried him in their direction until a pair of arms brought him back by the waist. He threw his elbow back once, twice, hitting him in the side and the chest. Lance grabbed his hand and freed himself of his hold. He gripped the fur on his head and smashed his face into the wall twice before throwing him back onto the floor. His confusion only grew at that. When did he get this strong? And where did he learn that? 

He looked up from the bloodied body to meet the questioning eyes of Hunk. All he could do is shrug before a shot was fired in his direction. He looked around him before finding a soldier shooting at Keith just a few feet from him. He jogged over, putting the guy in a headlock with one arm and using the other to slam his fist up against his wrist, making him lose hold on the weapon. He grabbed the arm and brought it behind his back, bending it and pushing up the the elbow and kicking the back of his knee, making the guard go down. He flipped him over, straddling his waist and pushing up on his nose, killing yet another guard easily. What had they done to him in that room? He was working entirely from muscle memory, making him question what they had done to him maybe ever before then? 

He grabbed the gun, not allowing himself to dwell on that now, and turned, aiming the gun at the first form he saw. Lotor. He glared at him and stood up, facing his whole body at him. “Drop the gun.” Was all he said to Lance, the command stern enough to make his grip falter. “If this will be a fight, this will be a fair one. I’ll have my generals take on the paladins and we will face off.” Lotor proposed. “You and I both know I’m not strong enough for that.” Lance countered, regaining his self control. “Do we, though?” Lotor asked. Almost as if on command, in fact, most likely on command, the arm he had lost feeling in started mutating, starting at the wrist and moving up his arm. He felt a similar feeling at the base of his spine, moving upwards. He dropped the gun and watched in some cross between awe and terror as his arm began to encase itself in armour, metal shooting out from the left and right sides of his arm and extending out in opposite directions to cover the entire surface. 

When the process finally stopped his arm and torso were both entirely changed as well as his other arm down to his elbow. He took a moment to look at himself before turning his attention to Lotor. “What did you do to me?” Lance hesitated to ask. “Who cares what was done to you, the process is not what matters so much as the end result. Think of what we can do together, just imagine the possibilities! We can rule the universe together, have planets, no, solar systems to ourselves!” Lotor paused and approached him, caressing his face. 

From Lance’s left he heard a growl-like sound from one of the paladins. He looked over and, to his horror, saw all of them restrained, Allura and Pidge now here as well. Lotor turned his head back to him so they were looking at each other. “I love you, Lance.” He paused again, just long enough for Lance’s look of fear to soften to one of pity. “Don’t you want this? We can be together, nobody stopping us! No witch, no king, no paladin,” Lotor practically spat the last one. “Nobody to get in our way.” Lotor leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

Lance took a deep breath before pushing him away. “I don’t want this.” He answered, voice wavering only slightly before he reached jabbed his hand forward, something he had seen his leader, seen Shiro do many a time, his hand going through Lotor’s torso. “I’m so sorry.” Lance whispered, tears escaping his eyes as Lotor fell to his knees, Lance following him down and pulling his hand away, the metal encasing retreating back into his arm. His blood covered hand came up to cradle Lotor’s cheek. Regret washed over Lance as he saw Lotor smile up at him weakly. “Go, be with your love.” Lance nodded, tears freely escaping his eyes. “I love you.” Lance said one last time before Lotor’s eyes fell dead and his body became limp in his hands. 

Lance placed a kiss on his forehead before reaching over and grabbing the gun from the floor beside him and standing. His eyes became cold and threatening once more as he aimed the gun at the guards. “Release them.” He spoke in a shockingly even tone, saving his inevitable breakdown for later. The guards faltered, but did not move. Lance aimed the gun at the first guard and shot him in between the eyes. Pidge immediately ran over to him and stood beside him, looking at him with teary eyes asking so many questions he couldn’t answer. “Pidge, go to the ship, now. I’ll take care of the others.” Lance demanded in a gentle tone. Pidge hugged him quickly, whispering ‘thank you’ before pulling out her bayard and completely disregarding everything he said. Typical Pidge. 

The other paladins were easily freed between Lance and Pidge, soon the other paladins joining them to help take down the rest of the guards before another wave of them came in. “Reunions later, we need to go.” Was the only thing that sunk into Lance’s mind once they were all back. He numbly followed to others to the castle ship.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short and sets up the Good End/Bad End fiasco that will be happening

As soon as they got the the castle ship Lance’s stamina dropped to a shocking low and he passed out. Next thing he knew he was stepping out of the familiar cold embrace of the pods and met with the faces of the paladins right in front of him. From that point on everything felt like it was happening from another pair of eyes’ perspective. Truly, he was only sure of one thing. He had no control over his mind, nor his body. 

There was no grace nor thought to his actions as he reached out and wrapped a tight hand around Shiro’s throat. The metal ripped through his skin and wrapped around his arm once again, making his grip stronger.

His eyes were not his own when he saw flashbacks of the scenes Haggar painted for him, Shiro betraying Voltron, torturing some alien for doing, seemingly, nothing. His ears were not his own when he heard the deep growl in his voice both in reality and the dream, a scorching hot object bringing him back to his senses. Instead he came back sharper, quicker, and prepared to fight. “Lance, Shiro-“ Coran began to call out, Matt cutting him off. “Stop! Nobody get in their way unless it’s necessary, they’ll kill you.” He demanded, cautiously taking a step forward. “Matt!” Pidge called, clearly agitated. He held a finger up as of to say “one moment.” 

“Shiro.” Matt called, voice even. Shiro snarled, almost feral, the same sound he had made in his nightmare. Lance swung up with his other arm to slam a fist into Shiro’s head. Shiro blocked with keen senses. “Shit.” Was the last coherent thing Lance heard from Matt, or rather anyone, for a while. 

They fought like wildly with a sense of precision that was on a subconscious level, as if they had been made for this. Through all of this, Lance felt more at peace than he ever had, in a deep, dreamlike state. He was unaware of how he was being bruised by punches and kicks, nor how he bruised with not quite as, but nearly as hard actions. 

Then, at the sound of a shout, he woke up. The beginning of the sentence went unheard, the only word making to his head being “Arena!” Immediately, he was slammed into the floor. The air was knocked out of him, the power of the move excruciating on his newly operated on body. “Shiro!” Lance shouted, the vision of Shiro before him now terrifying rather than rage-inducing. Shiro punched down towards his face, Lance rolling out of the way and scrambling into a less vulnerable state. “A little help here?!” Lance shouted. Matt carefully walked over to where Shiro now approached Lance and grabbed his arm, the metal one that is, and brought it behind his back. He nodded towards Allura and she walked over, easily taking his position as well as the other arm. 

Lance sat on the floor staring at Shiro in front of him with wide eyes. Lance’s breathing was wild and uneven, not coming to him easily. It took him a little while of Matt calming Shiro and everyone else too afraid to step forward and help them to understand what had happened. Shiro’s physical state said it all, the blood and bruises and all. 

His breathing stilled and his body tensed at the realisation. He stood up straighter than he probably ever had before backing away slowly. Lance turned and started running towards the stargazing deck. Nobody followed him over.


End file.
